Bikini Metal JacketWritten on February 16, 2014 Categories: San Diego Boudoir
A man in a funny hat came running on the bus. He was screaming at the top of his lungs and people were moving fast. “Get your fucking asses out on my yellow foot prints, MOVE BITCHES!!”
She regretted her decision to make this move. She wondered not for the first time, if maybe operating a meth lab in Mississippi wasn’t the better career choice. At least when she was doing that no one was screaming.
Of course a Mississippi meth lab dealer had a terrible retirement plan. Maybe this Marine Corps thing would get better. She ran out of the bus and stood on the yellow foot prints. It seemed the man in the funny hat had brought friends. Their was so much yelling, and no one seemed to do anything right.
They finally were ushered into a barracks and were allowed to sleep. It seemed like she was asleep for fifteen minutes when the man in the funny hat came in screaming and beating a trash can. “Wake up bitches!!” The man noticed her. Fuck. “Well what do we have here?! Where you from private?” “Sir the private is from Mississippi sir!” The man just stared, then punched her straight in the boobs. She collapsed on the floor. Apparently the man didn’t like people from Mississippi.
13 weeks later she had graduated. It had been tough and she had received orders to a run of the mill administrative unit based in Santa Carla, CA.
Wait a minute, she read her orders again. Santa Carla?! She had never been out of Mississippi, and now Santa Carla? Wait a minute, where the hell is Santa Carla anyway? California. She boarded the plane and four hours later she was in Santa Carla, taking a cab to base. She passed a “welcome to Santa Carla” sign, and ominously spray painted on the back, “Santa Carla, murder capitol of the world”. Ya, this was gonna be interesting.
The people in her unit were pretty nice, but very odd. They were all into vampire comics. They insisted she read them. Even more weird, they insisted these comics would “save her life” here in Santa Carla. Since she wanted to fit in she took a look at them. Pretty gory stuff, and this is for nerds. She was more interested in becoming an NPC bikini competitor, not a comic book collecting nerd.
The weekend finally came. Luckily she didn’t have to work, so she went down to the boardwalk. Their were people everywhere, mostly seeing a band that had some muscly steroid guy playing a saxophone. She saw a group of people riding bikes similar to hers. The leader of the group David, asked her to race them on the beach. He was dressed in black leather and looked like Kiefer Sutherland. Yes, this was gonna be fun.
The race was on. It was dark, the sand kicked up in her eyes. The race ended, they came to a stop at the mouth of a huge cave. Apparently it was their hang out. It was odd, and they were probably serial killers, but she didn’t have anything else going on that night, so why not! Everyone was drinking from a huge old jeweled bottle that looked like it contained red wine.
The bottle was passed around. It finally got to her and everyone got quite. One of the girls looked at her pleadingly. Don’t drink it Lyla…its blood. She laughed…then took a long drink.
To be continued…